Five Minutes
by RachelRiott
Summary: They aren’t supposed to be doing this. He knows it, and further more, he knows Don knows. But neither of them seems to care too much about what they should, and more importantly, should not, be doing. [DannyDon PWP]


They aren't supposed to be doing this. He knows it, and further more, he knows Don knows. But neither of them seems to care too much about what they should, and more importantly, should not, be doing. Because just as quickly as Don pulled Danny into the coatroom, Don's hand is over the crotch of his slacks.

Danny's hips roll against his hand, he's whimpering into Don's mouth, the sounds being muffled by the music playing in the next room over. The hand that isn't manipulating Danny's cock is curled up in his tie, tightening his grip as Danny's body presses closer to his own. Danny's can feel the strain on the fabric of his pants as he moves against Don's hand; he forces himself to break the kiss, watching him through strained eyes. He hears the music stop and suddenly he's _very _concerned about what they shouldn't be doing. "Don... there are cops everywhere an' Mac's gonna give his speech in like… five minutes. We shouldn't … I don't think … _fuck_." When he says they shouldn't, he really means it, it's just that his body has other ideas and when they were in disagreement it wasn't his head that usually won.

Apparently Don wasn't listening; either that or he just didn't care, because Danny felt cold air before he even realized his zipper was down. He looked around the small room frantically, noting if there were any other entrances so he wouldn't be caught off guard if a clerk came in to retrieve a coat. He licked his lips quickly and fumbled with the door he'd come in, making sure it was locked because fuck if they were going to stop now, not when Don's mouth was nipping at his bellybutton and his hands were sliding over Danny's ass, making his pants pool on the cold linoleum floor.

Danny's chest was heaving with each erratic breath, "Seriously man … four minutes 'til Mac..." And that was all he could manage to say because Don's mouth closed around the head of his cock and the music started once more and it was just too many sensations at once. Every time Don touched him, it was like the first time, Danny sort of hated it. He felt like a horny teenager in the back of his mom's station wagon, fumbling around without a clue, coming entirely too soon. If he didn't think Don would have clocked him one, he would have asked him if he'd been a whore in a past life. And honest to goodness, leg spreadin', cock suckin', trickin' whore. Because there was no way someone learned the things he knew at age thirty, not without spending a significant amount of time on your knees.

Don pulled back and placed a kiss on the head of Danny's cock, smearing the precome on his lips, "We got time." That was all Danny needed to forget what would happen if they got caught. He gripped the door handle in one hand and Don's hair in the other, he let Don set his own pace but he was prepared to grab him and force his cock into his mouth if he got any ideas about leaving him in this condition.

He felt the hand on his balls long before he realized that Don's free hand returned to curl into his tie, but judging by the few creases he could see through his heavy lids he surmised that hand had been there much longer. Danny's head fell against the painted cinderblocks, his Adam's apple bobbing with each struggled gasp. He was close and he knew it, he hated how he lost all control of his body when Don was around. He never shot this early with the others, not that there had been any since he and Don started… whatever it was they had started. But before, before he could go for hours … or at least longer than three minutes.

He knew he was sweating and he made a mental note to send Don his dry cleaning bill, he only owned one suit and he was sure it was going to smell like sweat and sex. He briefly wondered if anyone in the ballroom of the hotel they were in would notice but the idea quickly left his mind as Don's tongue teased his slit. He watched with a perverse smirk on his face as Don's tongue moved across his erection, with now two handfuls of hair Danny forced himself into Don's mouth, "Don't be… such a fucking… _tease_."

Danny wasn't normally so commanding, but they'd never screwed around at a policemen's banquet before either. The thought that all the cops, and even his coworkers, were walking mere inches away from where he was face fucking their star detective, it was all too much. He heard the music winding down and figured they'd be announcing Mac at any minute. Don must have heard it too because his fingers dropped from Danny's balls and teased his perineum which Don knew, made him see fucking stars.

His head slammed back against the cement wall but he barely acknowledged the pain, his entire body throbbed from the force at which he came into Don's mouth. He kept his eyes cracked open, watching, making sure. He reached down to grab Don's tie, damn near yanking him to his feet as he thrusts his tongue into Don's mouth. He was rewarded with his own fluid running back into his mouth, snowballing Don called it. The first time he did it caught Danny off guard; he pulled back with a puzzled look on his face, reaching up to wipe his own come off of his mouth. But now… now it was the most erotic thing, second only to Don's mouth, or rather Don himself.

Don's hands were gingerly tucking Danny back into his pants as he swallowed the load that Don had fed him. His breathing was starting to steady as Don's tongue ran over his jaw, lapping up any excess fluids that has leaked from his mouth. He straightened Danny's tie, giving him a coy smile, "Have I ever told you how fucking hot you look in a suit?" Before Danny could answer Flack pulled the door open, turning at the last second to smirk at him, giving him a playful wink as they hear Mac's name being announced over the intercom, "Toldja we had time."


End file.
